As the Walker celebrates its 75th anniversary, we’ve inaugurated the Walker People’s Archive (WPA), a crowd-sourced compendium of Walker history from the ground up, where visitors can see what others have to share and submit their own photos. Alycia Anderson, WPA intern, recently sat down with Jennifer Stampe, WPA project manager, to talk about the […]

As the Walker celebrates its 75th anniversary, we’ve inaugurated the Walker People’s Archive (WPA), a crowd-sourced compendium of Walker history from the ground up, where visitors can see what others have to share and submit their own photos.

Alycia Anderson, WPA intern, recently sat down with Jennifer Stampe, WPA project manager, to talk about the project. Jennifer has a PhD in Anthropology from the University of Minnesota and has taught Museum Studies at New York University and Anthropology at Brown University. She was recently co-curator for an exhibit marking Brown University’s 250th anniversary at its Haffenreffer Museum of Anthropology. Anniversaries seem to be her thing.

Walker Art Center staff in the lobby of the Barnes Tower, 1990

Alycia Anderson: What is the WPA? What’s its status today? How do you see it growing and developing in the future?

Jennifer Stampe: The WPA is a crowd-sourced, online compendium of people’s photographs and, just as important, stories about the Walker over its 75 years as a public institution. Over the summer, Education and Community Programs staff members began soliciting photos and stories from visitors at scan days held during Free First Saturdays and Target Free Thursday Nights. We also reached out to staff, volunteers and members who were likely to have great photos. The photos we collected allowed us to build a small archive and experiment with ways organize it.

For the Walker’s anniversary kick-off celebration, Walktoberfest, we launched a website where people can view the archive. More importantly, they can upload photos, caption and tag them, and tell their stories. This is an exciting time: now that we’re online, the archive will really start to take on a life of its own. We also want everyone to know that they are invited to participate in this project. For those who don’t yet have a relationship with the Walker, this is a chance to begin building one. New members of the Walker community are as important to us as long-standing ones.

AA: The WPA is a project created by the people of the Walker as a reflection of themselves, their relationships and their memories. How would you describe the Walker community?

JS: I see this project as an opportunity to learn about the Walker community, so I wouldn’t want to try to answer that question yet. But I will make a couple of guesses about what we might find. First, I think we’ll see that there is not any single Walker community, but rather many, overlapping communities. Second, I think we’ll see affiliations that disrupt the usual kinds of associations we think of when we hear the word community. So beyond expected communities — of staff, artists, or neighbors, for instance — I think we’ll also see clusters of people who share something based on where the Walker fits into their lives. I’m thinking about those who’ve gotten married in the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden, students who have visited the galleries on a field trip, or fans of the Internet Cat Video Festival. Or something else we don’t imagine at this point. I’m hoping that responses to this project will surprise us, and that we’ll learn something unexpected about the Walker and its people.

AA: The WPA is designed to be a place where the past and present mix, with polaroids and iPhone snaps illustrating decades of Walker experiences. With all of that potential diversity and change, do you expect visitors’ stories will have a theme which connects them?

JS: The main thing the stories we’ve heard so far share is an emphasis on family and friends. We don’t always think of it this way, but museum-going is a social experience: the people we’re with matter as much as what’s going on within the museum’s walls.

We’ve heard a few stories about moms, in particular. Carol Lichterman, a charter member of the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden, gave us this photo and told us about attending the Garden’s opening in 1988 with her mother, Sylvie Lichterman.

Sylvie Lichterman at the opening of the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden, 1988. Photo by Carol Lichterman.

As the morning’s ceremonies drew to a close, Carol asked Sylvie to pose in front of her favorite piece. Without hesitating, Sylvie chose Claes Oldenburg’s Spoonbridge and Cherry. Once the photo was taken, Sylvie exclaimed, “All of a sudden I feel like having an ice cream sundae with a cherry on top!” and proposed that she and Carol told Carol skip their planned lunch and proceed directly to dessert. Carol says, “Every time I explore the Garden now on my own, I think of [my mom] and how we enjoyed the Garden’s opening together.” The opportunity to make that kind of memory, based on spending time together exploring new ideas, is a thing the Walker has been able to offer people in its capacity as a public institution.

AA: What attracted you to the Walker and the WPA? Has your work in anthropology influenced your perception of the project and its goals?

JS: I’ve lived in Minneapolis (or had it as my home base) for a long time and I’ve been a Walker member for several years, so coming to work here was attractive. The project is particularly appealing because it’s multidisciplinary, as so much at the Walker is, with its archival, curatorial and outreach components. The way I think about the WPA is definitely informed by my background in anthropology. My research to date has examined the ways that people understand new kinds of museums, like those oriented to serving specific communities, so this project is right up my alley. Beyond that, I see the submissions we’re getting as a kind of data; my role is to analyze that data and to create opportunities for others to do so, and in creative, expansive ways. Fortunately, my training in the social sciences equips me with the tools for conducting ethnographic interviews and oral histories, and those have been useful in the conversations I’m having with people who are submitting photos and stories to us. Most importantly, anthropology is interested in describing social worlds in ways their participants would recognize: I’m hoping that people will see themselves in the WPA.

AA: The next question you may have seen coming: what’s been your most vivid experience at the Walker? And do you have a favorite contributor story or photo you’ve encountered so far in the archive?

JS: My most vivid Walker experiences don’t have photos to go along with them. I’m a fan of the Out There performance series, and I always attend the annual Choreographer’s Evening. I have had my mind blown during these and other performances over the years. And I loved visiting the Walker when the expansion opened in 2005. I remember wandering the new spaces wondering at the then unfamiliar building materials, and thinking about how that was a very different experience than looking intently at works in the galleries.

I have clear mental images of these experiences, but nothing I can share with the archive. That’s probably true for many potential contributors, so we encourage creative solutions: submitters with a memory but no photo could make a drawing to illustrate their story in the archive. Or they could get their friends together for a photo re-enactment of an important moment.

As for favorite submissions, I get the feeling that I will always love whatever photo has come in most recently. We recently finished scanning a binder of photos from Bob Teslow, a longtime art instructor at the Blake School’s Kenwood Campus, our neighbor on Vineland place. Bob was on the scene as the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden took shape in 1988, and he took wonderful photographs of many of the sculptures being installed. This one shows Mark di Suvero swinging on his sculpture Arikidea.

Mark di Suvero swings on his Arikidea during its installation in the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden, 1988. Photo by Bob Teslow.

Or there’s this photo, submitted by Peter and Peggy Georgas. Peggy made her own gowns for the Walker exhibition openings she attended with Peter, who was the Walker’s publicist from 1964 to 1979. Peggy made this dress for a reception held for Andy Warhol in 1968. She told us that she routinely finished the (sometimes very short!) hems of some of her creations in the car on the way to the party.

AA: Personally, I can’t wait to see a collection of awkward family portraits or visitors’ first impressions of the Walker. What kind of kinds of submissions will you be most excited to see?

JS: I’m most interested in seeing those that include rich, reflective stories. Don’t get me wrong: we do want absolutely want photos of everything and everybody, snapshots and selfies, from serious to silly. But there are some particularly compelling shots and narratives out there, and those are central to the archive. I’m looking forward to seeing them.

As for genre, I’m partial to photos of people taking photos. I could say it tells us something about the ways we use photography, but really they just make me laugh. I also like mysteries, shots where we don’t know what’s going on or who is pictured, and I hope that people will help us identify unknown subjects and activities in others’ photographs. Over the coming months, we’ll hold events at the Walker that will give WPA participants a chance to meet and respond to one another’s photos.

AA: Have you taken the obligatory selfie at Spoonbridge and Cherry?

JS: I have to admit I haven’t, yet. Let’s go take some pictures. We can start making #OurWalker memories today!

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Clockwise: Fashion Cats, Why Paint Cats, The Big New Yorker Book of Cats, Grumpy Cat: A Grumpy Book

But of all the cat books out there, there is no book quite like the book that Coffee House Press (with help from the Walker Art Center) aims to publish next fall. Using the Internet Cat Video Festival (#catvidfest) as inspiration,we’re currently working on a book that is all about cat videos: why we love them, why we hate them, and why we are powerless to resist them. There’s just something about cat videos.

Substantial research on our end helps confirm that statement:

The Internet Cat Video Festival in (top-bottom) 2012, 2013, 2014

In order to fund this book, and the many moving parts that an effort of this size entails, Coffee House Press has launched Catstarter – a Kickstarter that’s cat-themed. For all intents and purposes, it acts as a way for you to pre-order your copy of the book, titled Cat is Art Spelled Wrong, get it shipped directly to you, and, oh yeah, get your name printed in it as a token of appreciation.

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By Alycia Anderson, Walker People’s Archive Intern Photos of Devo performing at the Walker in ’78, a kid’s first swing on Mark di Suvero’s monumental Arikidea in the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden, Keith Haring painting a mural in the Walker concourse, or the magical meeting of you and Lil’ Bub at the Internet Cat Video Festival […]

In honor of its 75th anniversary as a public art center, the Walker introduces the WPA, an online space for people to share pictures and stories which illustrate their relationship, be it long-term or fleeting, to the Walker. Like a virtual family photo album, the soon-to-be-launched WPA will compile your snapshots and accompanying captions into a dynamic archive with categories that grow and change along with the Walker community. We want to celebrate decades of exhibitions, weddings, performances, mini-golf games, and more through your eyes.

When sharing your photos, we’re interested in hearing about the the significance behind them. How does this awkward family portrait in front of the Spoonbridge and Cherry or Polaroid of a performance piece capture the spirit of the moment? What were you doing, thinking, remembering, or enjoying that day? How do you feel this experience, be it big or small, connects you to the Walker?

My own WPA moment came about during my first visit to the Walker. A college freshman on the verge of declaring myself an English major, my plans were derailed by the incredible sight of Yves Klein: With the Void, Full Powers. The exhibition completely gripped and inspired me — like Violet out of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, I felt myself turning Yves Klein Blue at the fingertips — and I quickly realized that, in both my studies and interests, Austen would happily be ousted in favor of Arbus and Rothko.

On my way out of the Walker that day I took a shot of a window, its perforated sheet metal and layered geometric shapes perfectly framing the beaux-arts architecture of the Basilica nearby. For me, the photo captures a massive shift in perception which the Walker directly facilitated; the museum and its collection became a frame through which I could view my surroundings anew.

A view of the Basilica from the Walker Art Center (AKA: the author’s “massive shift in perception”).

To participate, stop by a WPA scan day (8/2, 11 am–2 pm; 8/7, 5–8 pm) with your hard copy photos, or look out for the WPA website launch later this summer in order to digitally submit content. Add your memories to the archive, read others’ stories, try your hand at capturing a mystery photo, and be a part of it all!

Need more incentive? A few standout photos (and their corresponding memories) will be displayed on billboards around Minneapolis, as part of the Walker’s 75th Anniversary celebration. Haven’t you always wanted to see yourself fourteen feet tall?

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In your own words, how would you tell the story of who you are and how you fit in a mosaic of interconnected communities? How might members of diverse communities convene and listen to stories such as these? Recently, I’ve been reflecting on the value of listening and what it means to honor others’ voices. […]

In your own words, how would you tell the story of who you are and how you fit in a mosaic of interconnected communities? How might members of diverse communities convene and listen to stories such as these?

Richard Artschwager, Untitled (Quotation Marks), 1980

Recently, I’ve been reflecting on the value of listening and what it means to honor others’ voices. The impetus for my introspection is a new partnership that the Walker has entered into with the Islamic Resource Group (IRG). I’ve been working closely with IRG staff to welcome their traveling exhibition, Tracks in the Snow, to the Walker’s Medtronic Gallery.

Tracks in the Snow conveys the experiences of Minnesota Muslims through photographic portraits and texts containing personal narratives. What I’ve gained from my involvement in this project is a deeper reverence for the stories we all carry with us—the family histories and unfinished mythologies we use to interpret and reinforce our relationships to family, faith, and home. It is one thing to have a concept of how Minnesota is interconnected with cultures from around the globe. It is a greater thing to hear voices express that in their own words.

“What it means to be Muslim in Minnesota, to me, would be similar to what it means to be a Christian in Minnesota, a construction worker in Minnesota, a high school football player in Minnesota. There’s going to be such a wide range of experiences. And yet I think as you cut across that wide range of experiences, there will be a consistent feeling—I think—a genuine sense of opportunity and community that exists here in Minnesota that is very much unlike any other place in the country.”—Nehrwr Abdul-Wahid

“Just because I’m Muslim doesn’t mean I’m living a totally different life, even in Minnesota. I’m doing the same things—I bring out my boots, I shovel the driveway, I gotta scrape my car. You know, we’re all doing the same thing and we all appreciate the same things.”—Nora Sadek

“As a Muslim we have to face the reality that we are Americans, we are the product of where we live.” . . . “And you can practice any religion you believe or not practice a religion and you can still be accepted among other Americans.” —Abdiwahab Ali

You can listen to these and other voices, presented in podcast like episodes, at IRG’s website for the Muslim Experience in Minnesota. Starting this Thursday at 5 pm, Tracks in the Snow will be on view during normal gallery hours and is free to all visitors for its entire run, ending Friday, August 8. To acknowledge this new partnership with IRG as well as the Eid holiday, the Walker is pleased to host a community reception on Saturday, August 2 from 1–4 pm in the Medtronic Gallery and Terrace.

Related links:An article by Star Tribune editorial writer and columnist John Rash appeared in last weekend’s paper. MPR’s Nikki Tundel produced a story that aired on Friday, August 1.

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We want to see your pictures. We’re putting together a Walker People’s Archive (WPA) and invite you to be a part of it. In fact, we’re so excited to see your photographs that we’re hoping you stop by this summer to have us scan them and listen to the stories that really bring them to […]

We want to see your pictures. We’re putting together a Walker People’s Archive (WPA) and invite you to be a part of it. In fact, we’re so excited to see your photographs that we’re hoping you stop by this summer to have us scan them and listen to the stories that really bring them to life. We’re interested in whatever you’ve got! The one requirement is that your photo gives a glimpse into how you feel connected to the Walker.

We have pictures like this:

Big, arty cake.

Artist (John Cage) with cake.

Playing with puppets

Children with mustaches. (Or, families connecting through creativity.)

We want pictures like this:

Sippy cups for art!

The photo you took of an artist at work during a visit to the Walker. Did Keith Haring know you were taking his picture? What did he say to you?

That artist’s film you were a part of many moons ago. (Lorna Simpson’s Recollection)

Friends posing with art, or simply posing while having fun near art.

That adorable snapshot your dad took of you at a Walker event 33 years ago. Is this you? Let us know!

We’ll of course accept more pictures of cakes, puppets and kiddos with facial hair.

Look through your shoe boxes of Polaroids, find those old slide carousels (we can scan slides!), and come to one of the Walker’s scan days.

Dates and Times (all at the Walker Art Center):

Thursday, June 19 from 5 pm-8 pm

Sunday, July 13 from 1 pm-4 pm

Saturday, August 2 from 11 am-2 pm

Thursday, August 7 from 5 pm-8 pm

No registration required. Questions? Call 612.375.7574 and we’ll do our best to answer them.

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What do you love about Minneapolis? What are the things and feelings that create home? Katie Bachler finished her residency in the art lab at the end of the summer and has been settling back into her home in Joshua Tree, California. During her stay here in Minneapolis, she asked people about the places, experiences, and feelings they […]

What do you love about Minneapolis? What are the things and feelings that create home?

Katie Bachler finished her residency in the art lab at the end of the summer and has been settling back into her home in Joshua Tree, California. During her stay here in Minneapolis, she asked people about the places, experiences, and feelings they have related to home. She recorded these stories on her phone and in her head. People were also invited to make maps of home noting what was personally most important – secret spots, smells of their neighborhood, and favorite places to eat, among other things. In addition, Katie put out a call for submissions and received numerous home maps from people all around the metro area. She then created a beautiful water-colored map of Minneapolis using the details and stories she was told. There are copies available for you to take in the Fritz Haeg’s At Home in the City exhibition.

Katie wrote this reflection on home in Minneapolis:

This map was created from conversations and time spent in physical geographical space. On top of sidewalks and paint jobs and chairs that we sit in, and next to lakes and in lakes, and on top of wood panels and slate and insulation and rebar in three season porches and holding tea, are feelings and memories about why we are here. The reasons a space becomes a place, the secret personal connections that float layered on the everyday. I came here knowing very little, with a few spots of the known, and have spent the month feeling my way through Minneapolis, learning so much, asking questions. As an outsider, I had access to truths that long-term residents perhaps no longer actively see because of the deep routine that happens as time passes.

Mapping home renegotiates ideas of hierarchies of space in the city. What is traditionally placed on a map is determined by the city-the planning commission, the department of transportation, the department of water and power-highways, railroads, parks. Experience then becomes homogenized if one is to simply follow the map. With a map expressing a multitude of subjective experiences of a place, hopefully YOU will feel too that there is meaning in your own ways of being in the city…. there is a physical reality to what we individually see, hear, smell, feel, everyday in the city; our micro experiences of knitting in a special chair, or making homemade chai tea, or having a potluck under a tree in the park, all become a part of the collective memory of the city, that the city itself is not one thing, but an ever shifting and growing amalgam of experience.

A movement towards the hyper local

A movement towards together

Looking at things and wanting to turn them into other things

In conversations in various neighborhoods in the city I found varying levels of connections to a politics of place-making. There are areas where people seem to find enjoyment in the everydayness of walking around the lakes, eating good food, shopping, swimming. These activities define the character of a neighborhood in a way that seems to mean “I live a good life, I have chosen these good things.” In Powderhorn, I found that the people I spoke with had a deep concern with the community in the immediate regions, that specific relationships defined a character of place; the residents of the neighborhood embodied a certain critical intention to the relationship between people and the way we define space; Powderhorn is being actively created, it is a process, an openness, aware of the precarity of life situations. People were more concerned with the question of how we live, as opposed to the knowing statement of this is how we live.

Reasons for being somewhere: uncertainty, a desire to chase a horizon, the energy surrounding change, knowing that one is producing the space (s)he inhabits, OR an externally produced aesthetics of place, a nice neighborhood, clean green spaces, good restaurants, shopping, etc.

How active are we in creating the places we live in? How can ideas of home extend into an idea of the neighborhood homestead, as defined by certain values and commitment to engagement and community?

Home is a politics of everyday life

We are drawn to places for both their aesthetic value as well as how we feel able to engage with their creation.

Homes were on the sides of the Great Mississippi in areas called flats. Places like Lilydale and Bohemian Flats housed hundreds of immigrant families. Floods washed many of these homes away, and people had to move. What happened to the sense of home that was the spirit of the space? What happens to the light and knowledge that is shared in a room?

Ojibwe people said the world began at Minnehaha Falls. Creation. The deep layers of home that existed when we belonged to the earth, when it was one organism, which lived and inter-depended. We are not supposed to be completely self-reliant, we need each other and shared knowledge, and an understanding of the multitude of home in the city.

One of the things that I find so interesting about Katie’s work and practice is that much of it is simply about talking, relating to people, and getting to know what is important to them. I think we often stay on the service when we meet new people. “What do you do?” Meaning what is your job rarely scratches the surface of how a person defines them self or how they identify in this world. I like the idea that getting to know strangers can be an art practice and that we should be intentional about how we relate to one another.

Click here to listen to Katie Bachler’s interview with John Wipifli – Chef/hunter.

Katie will be a part of the closing festivities for Fritz Haeg’s At Home in the City starting Thursday, Nov. 21st. Join us for conversations with Katie Bachler and other artists, stewards, and educators on Saturday, Nov. 23rd at 11:15 am and Sunday Nov. 24th at 4:00pm.

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I spent the day yesterday at Hidden Beach on Cedar Lake interviewing people about their favorite places, and making a giant map on an old slab. People there are very open, and they enjoy the freedom they feel at Hidden Beach. I talked to one man about a quaking bog that he loves to run […]

I spent the day yesterday at Hidden Beach on Cedar Lake interviewing people about their favorite places, and making a giant map on an old slab. People there are very open, and they enjoy the freedom they feel at Hidden Beach. I talked to one man about a quaking bog that he loves to run to and stand on. Another man told me about the Twin Lakes that you can only get to if you know someone who knows how to get there. They are secret lakes. I learned about abandoned Mill buildings in downtown, and places where the roads are perfect for doing Ollies on a skateboard. I ate grapes and strawberries with a group of youth who worked for the conservation core. Young and old came together to work on the map.

I heard over and over again about the good vibes at Hidden Beach, about the mud, about friendships and being part of a tribe. Most people described their favorite places not as physical locations, but as being with friends, being close to neighbors. We crave a sense of collectivism; people make places matter.

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Katie Bachler lives and teaches in the desert of Arizona. An artist, educator, and gardener, her work explores our personal ideas of home and the different paths we all walk, both physically and metaphysically. For her residency with Fritz Haeg’s At Home in the City project this summer, she’s asking people to submit maps […]

Katie Bachler lives and teaches in the desert of Arizona. An artist, educator, and gardener, her work explores our personal ideas of home and the different paths we all walk, both physically and metaphysically. For her residency with Fritz Haeg’s At Home in the City project this summer, she’s asking people to submit maps of daily activities and life practices for a collective map of Minneapolis that will constructed be throughout her stay with us.

In preparation of her arrival in Minneapolis this week I interviewed her about her project here.

Why are maps important to you?

Maps tell stories about places at specific moments, maps convey truths. They are tools for framing subjective experiences of internal and external places. Because the format of the map is familiar to people, they have the ability to convey unexpected information like scent memories or emotions because once someone knows they are looking at a map, there is an openness to receiving information. Maps change as people change. I love old maps of America that don’t have the West on them because it did not exist in the collective consciousness yet. Yet to be discovered!

What do you think maps tell us about people?

There is a human desire to document and make sense of the world around us through maps. A native American map from California is a circle with a dot in the middle and some random lines, because where they were was the center of the earth. We have maps in our minds too, and these maps show what we value. Places don’t exist until we map them.

How are maps and the idea of home integrated into your art practice?

People map what is important to them. I have made maps with tons of kids and adults and the kids always put their own houses and grandparents house, and the ice cream shop, and McDonalds, because that’s what matters to them. Adults will often put a special hike, or their garden, or bike route, or their friends houses. Maps allow a physical space for the mind to order what we value in the everyday. We are amalgams of all the places we have been and people we have met, and a map is a tool to make sense, in the snapshot of a moment, what matters to us.

I am deeply interested in the everyday and how to create connective spaces in cities and time. I feel that people are more likely to be engaged with a place if they are invited to participate in its creation. My work is based on facilitating experiences of place, whether that be through a community meal, a hand-drawn map, a dance, a sourdough library, or experiential hikes into LA wilderness. It is about being where we are, exploring the layers of a place.

What do you think makes a home?

People generally feel very connected to one or two aspects of their lives; perhaps they have a passion for baking bread or singing sea shanties or making quilts or fixing cars. These are all representations of home in some way, the situations where people feel the most themselves. We organize space, make a home, around activities we love. My 80-year-old friend in the desert, BC, has a quilting room with a bed in it. This is her home. Home is you projected into a corner, a favorite dapple of light in the morning, an onion skin, the placement of books and rocks on a shelf. Home is intention, a frame for the self to exist.

What is your connection to the desert?

I moved to the desert to understand the myth made real. The desert where I live, Joshua Tree, represents freedom, an escape from the routines and intersections that make up life in the city of Los Angeles. So the urbanite enters the desert realm with an expectation of an alternative experience, a pocket of time to be outside of the norm, to be replenished and able to re-tackle everyday life. I became interested in what makes people stay in the desert. What is daily life in the great Mojave? How do people make home there? How can I change by being outside of the map of LA in my mind? I am doing a Scout residency with High Desert Test Sites, where I interview locals about their home practices in the desert. People seem to move there to have the space to make their life intentions visible in a way that maybe isn’t as possible in the city.

What’s your experience working with Fritz?

I worked with Fritz Haeg as an intern for a few years. I showed up at his door one afternoon and asked if I could work for him. He lived in a geodesic dome, and met me in garden clogs along with two dogs. I felt at home, we had tea. I researched the history of the lawn and land use in the US, and helped tear up a front lawn in Lakewood, California as part of his first Edible Estates project. Fritz’s understanding of art was a real inspiration to me. Art engages with land and time! I also participated in the first Sundown Schoolhouse in 2006, which met for a 12-hour day once a week for three months. We did yoga, wrote manifestos, met with artists and activists, and cooked food that we ate in the garden.

How you can participate: This summer the Walker and Katie Bachler are mapping home stories in Minneapolis and we want you to submit a map!

Some questions to frame a map you might make: What are you doing to connect to where you are? How are you engaging with the landscape and food production? How do you create home in Minneapolis? What do you love here? Where do you feel connected to people?

Your map might include: the path of your backyard chickens, favorite places to walk, a drawing of a rock where you meditate, a photograph of your homemade bread, or a poem about the smell of moss on the river.

Your submission can take an untraditional format, like an audio recording or a poem. I will compile all of the submissions into a map to be distributed back to the community, and have an event where all of the submissions will be displayed, so everyone can see everyone else’s ideas about Minneapolis!

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By Rachel Kimpton. From the doors of the Walker Art Center to happenings around the city, state, country, and world at large, 2012 was indeed a whirlwind of a year. After putting our heads together, we present to you this compilation of outstanding family programs to shine as a beacon of inspiration for the year […]

By Rachel Kimpton.

From the doors of the Walker Art Center to happenings around the city, state, country, and world at large, 2012 was indeed a whirlwind of a year. After putting our heads together, we present to you this compilation of outstanding family programs to shine as a beacon of inspiration for the year to come.

Arty Pants

Last winter, visitors created “cool” paintings and sculptures using colored ice as a medium, and designed their very own arctic creatures. Young guests transformed the windows overlooking Hennepin Avenue in the General Mills Hennepin Lounge with giant, colorful window clings. January featured the film Lost and Found, a heart-warming story based on the book by Oliver Jeffers. Spring activities largely incorporated the Lifelike exhibition and similar themes. Visitors toyed with scale by creating tiny models of their favorite places, preparing a paper feast large enough for giants, and manipulating the size of different body parts using a photo booth.

Steve Sanders of Snapdragon Seeds Music joined us in May and June. He improvised songs based on visitor observations of the Walker Art Center galleries and the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden. Songs included a story about a cyclops (based on our old Murakami wallpaper), the journey of a young man from New York to Minnesota, and why John Waters is silly. You can enjoy a large batch of Steve’s Arty Pants songs on his website. Summer hosted two very fun hands-on projects. Kids created their own clay versions of freshwater creatures and collaborated to make paper garden with all the necessary inhabitants (including a garden gnome). During November and December, local dancer Timmy Wagner led several workshops teaching Merce Cunningham’s ideas behind artful movement and choreography.

One of our favorite things about Arty Pants is when visitors get excited and projects take unexpected turns.

Free First Saturday

February was all about snow. We planned to trick out sleds and take them for a spin down the hill, but Minnesota threw us a curveball last winter. No snow? No problem! “Snow(less) Saturday” was a day of making cardboard snowmen with artists Andy Ducett and Scott Stulen, learning about bees with Terry McDaniel of the Minnesota Hobby Beekeepers Association, and crafting valentines for residents at Twin Cities nursing homes with local artist Amanda Lovelee. Families had a chance to experience the imaginative process of film within the walls of the Walker Art Center in March. This day was very exciting, as the Walker hosted the regional premier of the award-winning animated Japanese film Oblivion Island.

April was a day of exploring memories, ancient traditions, and feelings of youth. Minnesotan playwright and performer Kevin Kling and author/illustrator Chris Monroe paid us a visit to narrate their collaborative work, Big Little Brother, a children’s book about sibling rivalry turned brotherly love. Families had the opportunity to enjoy Oscar-winning short film The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr. Morris Lessmore and to create wool felt alongside artists from the Textile Center.

In August, the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden was transformed into a giant LARPing (live action roleplaying) arena. The responsibility of freeing both the Walker Art Center and the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden from a dangerous curse was placed in the hands of ordinary citizens. Participants encountered shopkeepers, trolls, shaman, fortunetellers, sirens, merchants, and others while completing various quests in order to lift the curse. September celebrated the power of reading, storytelling, and community. Local author and illustrator Nancy Carlson led the activity Get Up & Read, allowing characters from her books to encourage guests to be active and move their bodies as they made their way through the Garden.

As the year began to wind down, November wound things back up again by coaxing out one’s inner inventor through experimental expression. Artist Margaret Pezalla Granlund transformed the Art Lab into a luminous forest where guests investigated the tricks of light, mirrors, and reflection. Electronic music pioneer Laurie Anderson held an afternoon workshop showcasing her invented instruments, projects, and music.

Laurie Anderson manipulating the voice of a participant.

Family Exhibition of the Year: Lifelike

Without a doubt, the Lifelike exhibition wins family favorite – hands down. Lifelike was on view for most of spring, opening in late February and ending in late May (you can read more about the exhibition here and here). This exhibition showcased how artists replicate everyday objects, challenging visitors to think about the art of design, and to recognize that “ordinary” does not necessarily imply “simple.” For children, this was a great introduction to exploring art outside of textbook examples, and to get a sense for what artists are doing and have done. The irony of altered scales or mediums, such as an oversized milk carton or a sleeping bag cast in bronze, was enjoyed by all and served as the perfect spark for dialogue.

The gallery activities were very successful with this exhibition. Over 1000 scavenger hunt sheets made it into hands of visitors at family programs! Art Think, one of our gallery activities, asks children to describe their thoughts on a specific work of art that caught their attention. During Lifelike, kids tended to gravitate towards pieces from this exhibition and had a lot of interesting things to say.

As the Walker Art Center is always changing and evolving, we hope that 2012 will serve as an excellent role model for the upcoming programs in 2013.

The warm welcome of family-friendly programming grows all the more enticing as winter creeps its way closer. November is always a busy time at the Walker, especially with the recently commenced performing arts season. This month’s Free First Saturday was no exception. Families flocked in to illuminate their Saturday, basking in the glow of visiting artist Laurie Anderson and experimenting with light, reflection, and inventing.

The morning started off by investigating and playing tricks with light via activities designed by artist Margaret Pezalla Granlund. In the Art Lab, kaleidoscopes of all shapes and sizes beckoned from tables, inviting curious hands and minds to pick them up and peer inside. Each turn of the kaleidoscope showed something different – a thousand pairs of laughing eyes, a thousand loving mothers, or a brief sneak peek at reality interspersed with a thousand tiny polygons.

If the kaleidoscopes were too dazzling, a simpler approach came in the form of two free-standing mirrors and an assortment of small objects. This seemed better suited for our youngest crowd members. With a slight tilt of one mirror, an infinite loop of images appeared, creating millions of apples or blocks or candles that faded into obscurity. The eyes of a child would narrow, and their tiny gears would start to turn. This garnered shared smiles of excitement and endearing gazes between parents. For the older kids brave enough to venture into the dark (some alone, some gingerly holding onto their taller guides), a forest of hidden secrets awaited that could only be revealed through the power of light. By placing the tiny LED against one’s temple and oscillating the finger to which it was attached, visitors were pleasantly surprised when shapes of leaves, trees, squirrels, and birds revealed themselves in the dark curtained tunnel.

Photo by Frannie Kuhs

On the way to exploring the galleries upstairs, visitors stopped at Cargill Lounge to challenge their inner inventors – some for fifteen minutes, and some for two hours. You know you’re doing something right when parents are just as into a hands-on project as their younger companions. Led by arts instructor Alexandra Waters, visitors designed their own illuminated structures using small lights and a variety of transparent materials including recycled film strips and tissue paper. The end products were altogether awe-inspiring. Highlights of the afternoon included: an angler fish, a Tony the Tiger Statue of Liberty, a decent sized model airplane with landing lights and engines, and several movie projectors (a quote from the 7-year-old artist: “Once I’m finished, it will project this film onto the whole side of the Walker!”)

Photo by Rachel Kimpton

Photo by Frannie Kuhs

Photo by Rachel Kimpton

And what better innovator to inspire creativity than multimedia artist and musician Laurie Anderson! An electronic inventor herself, Anderson generously presented an afternoon workshop for kids on top of her three evening performances in the Walker’s McGuire Theater. The promise of experiencing Anderson firsthand had parents geeking out for the entire morning. During her workshop, Anderson shared a chunk of her personal and artistic history, discussed her music and performance pieces, and showcased some of her instruments that she herself invented. Her beloved inspiration and companion for many years, Lolabelle the dog (may she rest in peace), appeared in videos as a skilled pianist. Between these discussions, Anderson performed selections from her recent work and invited young audience members to distort their voices and laughter through one of her filters. A brief question and answer session followed, giving younger audience members a chance to pick Anderson’s brain about her favorite creations and the many processes of inventing.

Guests also had the opportunity to participate in gallery activities in the Midnight Party exhibition. Guests created their own light impressions by applying concepts used by artist Bruce Conner in his piece Night Angel. Conner created this piece by positioning himself between photosensitive paper and a light source to essentially create a photographic negative. The farther Conner was from the paper, the darker the paper became. Toying around with these same ideas, visitors experimented with ultraviolet pens on UV sensitive paper. Unlike Conner’s piece, this paper did not permanently capture the effects of the light. Instead, the image remained for only a few seconds until it slowly faded away, returning the paper to its original blank state. The fleeting images dazzled visitors of all ages, making it hard to venture into the rest of the galleries.

Our other featured gallery activity asked children to share their thoughts on a specific work of art. Kids had great things to say about Robert Motherwell, Paul Sharits, Thomas Hirschhorn, and others. Yayoi Kusama’s sculpture Passing Winter was interpreted as depicting a snow storm inside a mad scientist’s lab, as well as the innards of a disco ball. One 10-year-old guest was reminded of “how lucky [she] is” by Kris Martin’s Still Alive, while an imaginative 6 year old guessed that Ed Paschke’s Painted Lady was inspired by feet that “were walking in the woods and tripped over a bucket of paint.”

Experimenting through art makes the upcoming winter season seem brighter.